


Heir and Fire

by junko



Series: Senbonzakura's Song [27]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:02:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2084739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji arrives late to dinner and has a run in with Shinobu, the new Kuchiki heir...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heir and Fire

Renji let himself in the servant’s entrance, as always. Leaving his shoes in the mudroom, he stepped up into the kitchen. Rarely, had he seen it so busy. Pots clanged, knives chopped, vegetables sizzled, and so many cooks and servants dashed around. He spotted Miki’s orange curls and waved. 

“Renji!” she admonished, waving a spoon at him. “You’re supposed to start using the front!”

“Yeah, I know,” he said. Weaving his way towards her, he was careful not to upset any dishes or bump any elbows. “I just can’t. It don’t feel natural.”

“It’s just as well. I wanted to ask you something,” she said with a little conspiratorial smile. Leaning her hip against a counter, she stirred the contents of her bowl. “I heard that Lady Kuchiki was… well, they say her things started leaving without her. Do you know what happened?”

Renji chuckled a little. Using his finger, he hooked out a bit of pickled lotus root from her marinade. She smacked his shoulder as he popped the treat into his mouth and crunched it down. “You aren’t pretending you haven’t heard, are you?” Renji asked. “Because I’d be shocked if you ain’t picked up on the juiciest bit of gossip in the entire estate right now.”

She laughed. “Yes, but you know how the rumor mill is, Renji. It’s good to get confirmation about the details. Did the Lady Kuchiki really spit on you?”

The tips of Renji’s ears burned with shame, but he nodded. “Yeah, she did.”

“Oh! That’s horrible!”

Renji wanted to say it wasn’t such a big deal, he’d been spit on before, but the blush heating his face made it hard to deny the truth. “Yeah, I can’t say I’m sad to see the backside of that one.”

Miki giggled a little, but then she gave his shoulder a little shove with her own. “You’d better get going. The first course is nearly ready to go out.” 

After getting directions to where everyone was gathering, Renji headed out. He wondered if he should change out of his uniform and back into that outfit that got him into so much trouble yesterday. 

He didn’t want to—he felt far more comfortable in uniform. Plus there really wasn’t time if he didn’t want to be late. But, he really ought to make a quick dash up to the master suite and leave behind Zabimaru. Eishirõ had made a big deal out of the fact that no weapons were allowed last night. Anyway, Renji figured Byakuya might excuse the uniform, but showing up armed to a family dinner was probably the kind of breach of protocol and etiquette that’d be unforgivable.

Renji’d just set Zabimaru on the other side of the door to the master suite, when he heard a little noise, like the clearing of a throat in the hallway. He turned, half-expecting an irritated Byakuya. Instead it was the little heir—oh, crap, what was his name? Renji remembered at the same moment he thought to drop to his knees, “Lord Shinobu,” he said, bowing his head.

The silence made Renji wonder if he was too familiar. Should he have just called him Lord Kuchiki? The boy certainly looked the part of the heir to the Kuchiki fortune. His kimono was the deep blue of the Kuchiki clan, accented with an undershirt of a lighter blue with golden flecks of some kind in it that shimmered in the sunlight. 

“Um,” Shinobu’s voice was hesitant, “Lieutenant? Perhaps you could accompany me to the ‘war room’? I appear to be lost.”

And on his own, which seemed a little suspicious to Renji. Glancing up, Renji gave Shinobu a hard look. “You dodge your minder, son?”

His face flushed guiltily, his eyes going wide. “No, sir, I swear I didn’t! Not on purpose! But... my bodyguard seems to have left with my lady aunt. I’ve been on my own all day.”

All day? Mark Byakuya down as not exactly paternally-minded, or at least absent minded when it came to making sure someone was looking out for the precious bundle here. “Heh,” Renji said, getting up off his knees and offering Shinobu his arm. “You find all the secret passages yet?”

Now the boy’s eyes danced with glee. He took Renji’s arm and they headed down the hallway. “All? Are there more than two?”

Renji laughed. “I got no idea, but I think so. Rumor has it, there’s one that’ll take you all the way to the Eleventh Division—or somewhere nearby, anyway. The person who knows for sure is Yachiru. You should have the captain introduce you to her.”

The young heir nodded enthusiastically, but then his expression turned thoughtful. “’Captain’? You don’t call the clan head something more personal? My lady aunt seemed to think you were—“ Shinobu’s face was bright red, but he managed, “—special friends.”

Oh great, Aunt Masama had talked to the kid about the two of them. Gods only knew what kind of poison she’d poured in his ear. “We are,” Renji said steadily. “But he’s still my captain and the head of a powerful noble family. I don’t go throwing around his personal name in public...unless I forget, but I try not to forget, okay? Thing is, that’s for private.”

“Then you call him Byakuya-sama?”

Renji looked down at the curly mop of Shinobu’s hair. The kid sounded sincerely curious, like maybe the protocol of what lovers called each other fascinated him for some reason. At any rate, if it was a trap of some kind, Renji couldn’t figure it. So, he shrugged.

“No, I don’t. His wife called him that,” Renji explained, stopping to slide aside a fusuma panel for them. “It makes him sad to remember her. She died young. So, I just leave off the –sama.” Renji smiled to himself and chuckled a little, “Or I call him ‘babe.’” Shinobu looked so shocked, Renji felt compelled to explain, “Yeah, the first time was an accident, but he said he liked it.”

If Shinobu had an opinion about this he didn’t say. Instead he seemed to be considering something very hard. 

They were almost to the war room, so Renji decided to ask, “Why do you want to know?”

He gave Renji a shy little smile. “I have a special friend as well—or, I did, anyway, probably not anymore since I won’t be going home often and she’ll find someone else, but, well, my mother said everyone has to call me –sama now. And my friend, well, she calls me Bu or Bu-chan and I’d hate for that to change, but, well, I guess everything is changing now, isn’t it?”

Renji had to struggle not to give the kid a huge hug or ruffle his mop of dark curls. “Ah, I got nothing for you, kiddo,” Renji said kindly. “I never been through anything like this, except maybe from the other side. See, I lost my very best friend once. She’s like you. She got to move up, to become a lady, just like you’re becoming… well, you know, more lordly or whatever.”

Shinobu was listening very closely. They were paused in front of the last panel, the door that would take them into where everyone had gathered for dinner. “Have you seen her since?”

“Yeah,” Renji smiled. “I’m lucky. There was a long time I didn’t see her, but now—well, we’re friends again.”

“Even though she’s a lady?”

“Even though she’s way high above me.”

Shinobu nodded, seeming relieved to hear that it was possible. “Before we go in, can I ask one more question?”

“Shoot,” Renji said.

His voice dropped to an excited whisper: “Are you tattooed because you’re a criminal or because you’re a gangster? Oh! Or both?”

“Uh…” before Renji could even formulate a response Eishirō came rushing up to them.

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re both here. Miki is going spare waiting to bring out the first course.” Then, as if realizing his casualness in front of young heir, Eishirō clapped a hand over his mouth and bowed deeply. “That is… if my lord is ready,” he said more humbly, “I will announce your arrival.”

Shinobu inclined his head regally. Renji stepped out of the way. “You won’t go in with me?” Shinobu asked, sounding a little hurt.

Renji shook his head. “I probably shouldn’t even be standing in front of you. No way we should walk through that door, arm and arm, like equals. Pretty sure someone would take that the wrong way. Your aunt would’ve. And I want tonight to go a little easier for me. It doesn’t do my relationship much good when Byakuya’s got to chew me out while I’m on my knees. Anyways, I’m probably already in deep—“ Renji stopped himself in time, “—doo with your family, after everything that happened last night.”

Shinobu frowned, but seemed to understand. He gestured to Eishirō to go ahead.

Once he was announced and through the door, Eishirō slid it shut. “That was very… wise of you, lieutenant,” Eishirō said in a tone that suggested that he was surprised to find Renji capable of such insight. “We’ll wait a few minutes so it’s not so obvious you came together.”

Renji nodded. He might have asked about Miki’s first course, but Renji was sure that they were only waiting on the heir. Food would start coming now that he was inside and seated. “Tell me I’m not missing anything tasty.”

Eishirō’s lip lifted slightly, “Depends on how you feel about umi-budo.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Renji said.

“Then you won’t miss it.”

#

Picking his way through the seated Kuchiki toward the dais where Byakuya, Rukia, and Shinobu sat, Renji had the weirdest flashback to Academy. He could still hear that old fart of a professor telling him: ‘You can’t come to the front! Think of all the higher class people who would have to stand to let you pass.’ 

Yet, here he was, the same low-born nothing of a Inuzuri hound, just waltzing right through the single most powerful noble family in the entire Soul Society toward the front. He was looking down at the tops of their heads, bold as brass.

Heh, he hoped somewhere that dusty old sensei was having a heart attack. 

Sitting himself down in the empty spot they’d left for him, Renji nodded a greeting to everyone. Rukia put a bit of the appetizer on his plate, like she’d been saving it just for him. Renji smiled at her and dug in.

Hmm, turned out, ‘umi-budo’ was a kind of seaweed sometimes called ‘green caviar’ or sea grape. Salty! And, they had popped in his mouth in a way that made him wish that there’d been a few more.

“I trust it was important business that made you late,” Byakuya said, disapprovingly.

Renji glanced at the heir, but kept their secret. “Yeah, sorry about that. I nearly got mugged at the Eleventh’s sento. Some yahoos tried to run off with my Zabimaru.”

Byakuya looked mildly shocked—or vaguely disgusted. 

Rukia set down her chopsticks in shock, “Oh, no! What happened?” She glanced at Renji’s side, “They didn’t get him, did they?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t gotten him back,” Renji pointed out. Reassuring her, he said, “He’s safe upstairs. It’s not like it’d have been much of a fight at any rate. They weren’t even seated. They ran as soon as I confronted them. But, I was dumb enough to think Zaraki would give a—“ he stopped himself again with a glance at the heir, “—hoot. So I wasted some time over at the Eleventh.”

“Hmm,” Byakuya said. “You should’ve known better than to have bothered with that barbarian.”

“Yeah, well, he is my former captain,” Renji felt the need to defend Zaraki a little. Before Byakuya could get his knickers in a knot about that, Renji shrugged, “But you’re right. He couldn’t have cared less. I guess… I mean, he seemed to imply that’s how some of his people got their zanpakutō?—by lifting them off other shinigami.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least,” Byakuya said. 

“Really? Because it kind of did me,” Renji said. “I never heard of it the whole time I was there. You’d think we’d’ve had a rep, if our lot was always out jacking zanpakutō.”

“Did you never wonder why people went the other way when they saw the Eleventh coming?” Byakuya said with a little smirk.

Renji chuckled a little, “Yeah, but I always figured that was our collective b.o. or general badassery—“ Renji gave a guilty glance at the heir, “Oh, hey, I mean…uh, tough reputation.”

“The Eleventh is the Kenpachi’s division?” The heir asked. “The strongest fighter?”

Renji nodded proudly, just as Byakuya frowned and said, “Well, among those who would kill for the title, yes.”

Renji leaned in to Shinobu and said, “There’s a little rivalry between your cousin and the Kenpachi.”

“Really?” Shinobu looked excitedly to Byakuya for more.

“There is no such thing,” Byakuya insisted, but Renji would have sworn the very tips of Byakuya’s ears reddened just a little. “I just don’t feel that ‘strongest’ is accurate, when the Kenpachi remains largely untested inside the Gotei. He has no bankai. He refuses to use kidō. I simply believe there are several captains who would be able to defeat him.”

“Could you?” Shinobu asked.

“Of course he could,” Renji said proudly. “Zaraki thinks so, too, or he wouldn’t always be spoiling for a fight with Captain Kuchiki.” When Shinobu turned his curious gaze to Renji, Renji explained: “Zaraki gets bored when there’s no challenge. But, if he thinks he’s missing out on a decent fight, he gets kind of obsessive. You should see the way he chases around for Ichigo.”

As soon as Ichigo’s name left Renji’s lips, he winced sympathetically for Rukia. When he dared to look at her, she looked a little like he’d slapped her—kind of shocked and hurt and… sad. Renji could smack himself on the head. Way to bring up a sore subject.

And tonight had been going so well, too.

They were all silent as the servants brought the main course. From the silver tureen and the spicy scent, Renji guessed they were having some kind of curry. 

Byakuya fiddled with his sake bowl, uncustomarily hesitant. Finally, he said, “Surely we could arrange for a Soul Ticket. There are no restrictions. Even a human with no…. “ Byakuya apparently thought better of pointing out the obvious. “That is, if you think Kurosaki would come.”

Rukia’s eyes glittered with barely contained tears. “Come for what?”

“My birthday,” Byakuya suggested.

“Oh, nii-sama,” Rukia said clearly touched at the offer. “But, he’s still in a coma. I don’t know if he’ll wake up in time.”

Byakuya nodded in sad understanding. “Ah.”

Renji wished he were sitting close enough to Rukia to give her knee a squeeze. But he was between Byakuya and Shinobu, so all he could do was look into her pained face. Renji still wasn’t sure what Ichigo would want when he woke up and Urahara told him the score. Unfortunately, Renji could easily imagine that Ichigo would be the type to say he was fine, tell everyone to cut ties, and try to tough it out on his own.

Nah, shit, that’s exactly what would happen. Because that’s what Renji would want, if it were him—not to be a burden on anyone.

Renji felt a tug on his sleeve. He’d been so lost in thought that he forgot it was his responsibility to serve everyone. But, as he reached for the serving ladle, Shinobu whispered, “Who’s Ichigo? And is Rukia-sama your lady friend? The one who you lost and found again?”

Whoa, too many questions, and, anyway, how was this kid so sharp? Though Renji figured Aunt Masama probably had had a thing or two to say about Rukia being from Inuzuri, too. “Yeah,” he said, as he poured out the thick curry. He kept his voice very low as he explained, “And Ichigo is Rukia’s special friend. He got really badly hurt helping the Soul Society. He… there are some wounds you can’t fix and he’s never going to be the same.”

“It’s a difficult pill to swallow,” Byakuya added, because apparently, even Renji’s lowest voice was loud enough. “Because Kurosaki came through so much unscathed. It seems impossible that someone so strong could be wounded so irrevocably. But he is a warrior, and such is a warrior’s lot.” 

Renji tried to catch Rukia’s eyes, though she was staring hard at her lap, clearly trying not to cry. “Ichigo’s that kind of guy, the kind who would pay any price to save his friends. But, you know, he didn’t have to cash out, did he? And where there’s life, there’s hope.”

Rukia looked up at that. 

Renji nodded at her, wishing she could read his thoughts. Because in his heart of hearts Renji knew Ichigo would find a way back to her. He always did. She just needed to trust and wait.

“The man who saved the world is named Strawberry?” the heir asked.

That broke the mood. Everyone around the table managed a smile or even a little laugh. Rukia added, “And he’s got twin sisters named Lemon and Lime.”

Shinobu blinked. “Is his family insane?”

Byakuya sipped his sake and murmured. “Quite possibly.”

There was a small commotion at the door when, quite suddenly, Eishirō announced: “Captains Shunsui Kyōraku and Jūshirō Ukitake.”

Byakuya set down his cup. “What is this?” But when the doors opened, Byakuya rose to his feet, causing every single Kuchiki in the room to do the same. Renji pulled himself up quickly, though he kind of felt like maybe he should be kneeling, being the only non-Kuchiki in the room.

Kyōraku lifted his straw hat and peered at all the standing Kuchiki and said, “Oh ho! Quite the welcome!”

Ukitake beamed one of his bright smiles and said, “We brought you sake, Byakuya. Freshly brewed!”

Ducking servants scurried to place another table on the dais and set out food. The captains strode in, like they’d been invited, and Byakuya choked out a barely civil, “Captains. It’s a… surprise to see you.”

“You seem to have left off ‘pleasant,’” Kyōraku laughed, giving Byakuya a broad pat on the back. He nodded to Renji and Rukia and then, seeing the young heir said, “Ah, if it isn’t my distant cousin! Shinobu Kuchiki!”

Doing a double take between the two of them, Renji could see a resemblance: the curls, the open expression—yeah, that would explain a lot, actually.

“Oh!” Ukitake said happily, “That makes our gift extra special. We’ve brought a store from the Kyōraku label.” He lifted up a jug, “This is the first bottle tapped. But, the rest is in the hands of your steward. Everyone can try some.”

“It’s almost as if you knew you’d be interrupting a large family gathering,” Byakuya noted icily.

“Oh, ho! Don’t be so glum, Mr. Byakuya.” Kyōraku said, flopping down to sit cross-legged on the floor. Renji noticed he had Katen Kyōkotsu at his side as usual, just as Ukitake carried Sōgyo no Kotowari. Apparently, they didn’t get the memo to show up unarmed. “You can’t be angry with us. We brought wine!”

Byakuya sat once Ukitake had settled, and the whole room re-seated itself in a collective rustle of expensive silks.

Ukitake looked around the room, smiling at all the faces turned away or ignoring him. “Wow, this must be nearly your whole clan.”

“No,” Byakuya said. “There are many more en route. And, some have… left early.” 

“Well, and now you have another—albeit distant—relative at your table,” Kyōraku said jovially, as if it were all some great joke. “Though the Hell butterfly must have lost my invitation to your birthday soiree. No mind, I’m sure it will arrive in time.”

Byakuya’s lips went very thin. “Indeed.”

Leaning over from their separate table, Ukitake reached around Byakuya’s back to hand the sake bottle to Renji. “Will you be a dear and pour?”

“Uh, yes, sir,” Renji said taking it in both hands with a bow.

Renji could almost feel Byakuya’s back muscles rippling like an irritated cat’s. “May I ask what brings you here tonight?”

“We came to bring you fresh sake,” Kyōraku said. “And a bit of news from the Rukongai about our mutual friend Daisuke.”


End file.
